The Three Gadders
by GusCGC
Summary: Post-AB. Based on "The Three Gablets". The sudden death of an MI5 agent is going to put the Holmes Boys on the ropes. A big mob is working the streets of London and all points to the Secret Service and it all points to Mycroft? Why is he blocking the investigation? And who is IK? Chapter 5!
1. 1 Fall From Grace

Author's note: Problems with the computer, publishing a new book, too many things have kept me away from you guys. A new take and with elements of the "Three Gablets" to start and perhaps more in latter episodes but let's move little by little. I'm really looking forward to the adaptation of "The Dying Detective" with Tobey Jones and yes! Would love to see Isadora Klein and Langdale Pike moving around Moffat and Gattiss'take.

Enjoy!

* * *

 **THE THREE GADDERS**.

 **1\. Fall From Grace**

" _Bury me at sea_

 _Where no murdered ghost can haunt me_

 _If I rock upon the waves_

 _No corpse can lie upon me"_

The Pogues

Boring, boring, boring! Just plain and everlasting bore! God!

Just a few days after the failed exile, things are almost back to normal in Baker Street save for the constant feeling that Moriarty's last move is still in the air. John is going almost nuts with the idea of being a parent and he has went into it so deep, that he spends more time in hospital than anywhere else. And perhaps that is the reason why when he hears his cellphone, he realizes that is almost half past seven in the evening and is Sherlock texting. No wonder Mary is not around, must be at home by now. Let's see.

 _Little inconvenience. Please come at once. SH_

What the hell does he mean with "Little inconvenience"? Ten minutes later, he is at the very door of his old rooms but all seems quiet. Sherlock is playing the violin and seems to not have notice his arrival. John grumbles under his breath. Again, he is called for nothing! Why the f…? Hmm? The door opened all of a sudden and a huge black-skinned man bursts into the room. He would be a comic figure if he wasn´t so terrific, for he is dressed in a very loud gray check suit with a flowing salmon-coloured tie. His broad face and flattened nose are thrust forward, as his sullen dark eyes, with a smouldering gleam of malice in them, turning from one man to the other.

"Which of you gen'l'men is Masser Holmes?"

"That would be me" before John can intervene, Sherlock puts down the instrument and gives out one of his irritating smiles.

"Oh! It's you, is it?" says the visitor, coming with an unpleasant, stealthy step round the angle of the table. "See here, Masser Holmes, you keep your hands out of other folks' business. Leave folks to manage their own affairs. Got that, Masser Holmes?"

"Keep on talking," said Holmes. "It's fine." He smiles for his old flat mate.

"Oh! It's fine, is it?" growls the savage. "It won't be so damn fine if I have to trim you up a bit. I've handled your kind before now, and they didn't look fine when I was through with them. Look at that, Masser Holmes!" He swings a huge knotted lump of a fist and grabs the young man from the collar, almost pushing him out of the window. The doctor stands up ready to pounce in defense of his friend but after a few minutes, the detective is released. "Well, I've given you fair warnin'," said he. "I've a friend that's interested out Harrow way—you know what I'm meaning—and he doesn't intend to have no buttin' in by you. Got that? You ain't the law, and I ain't the law either, and if you come in I'll be on hand also. Don't you forget it."

"I won't. But please, Dixie, tell your boss to stop the lame warnings. It gets boring"

"You know ma name?" the large man steps back.

"I know more than just your name, Steve Dixie, the bruiser. You are in a gang of low-lives, experts in small crimes and violence, who dwell in a small boxing club in Birmingham. You are the loyal dog of the one-eyed crook, Ol'Roger Stockdale, working partner of any person with interest in anything worth a million pounds. That and the facts that you washed yourself on a rush this morning for your client, a woman very likely, and you spent the night in your club drinking like a fish. And the fact you might be involved in the murder of Perkins in…"

"So help me the Lord! Masser Holmes—" he is ready for another round.

"That's enough. Get out of it. I'll pick you up when I want you."

"Good-mornin', Masser Holmes. I hope there ain't no hard feelin's about this 'ere visit?"

"There will be unless you tell me who sent you."

"Why, there ain't no secret about that, Masser Holmes. It was that same gen'l'man that you have just done gone mention."

"And who set him on to it?"

"S'elp me. I don't know, Masser Holmes" Dixie gives out a snort and walks away like a beaten dog. John is still trying to figure out what is going on while his friend gives out a friendly smile and sits down in his chair.

"Lovely boxer, isn't he?"

"That was the 'inconvenience' you mentioned?" the doctor blinks.

"He's all bite and no bark. I called you to keep him on toe"

"Right. And that Harrow business he mentioned?"

"A case that arrived last evening through the web page, signed by a certain Mss. Maberley. Her son died of pneumonia, because he was beaten to a pulp just a few days earlier. The case wouldn't be interesting if it wasn't for the fact that I know the dead man"

"You do?" John blinks.

"My brother does. Douglas Maberley was an MI5 agent. I have seen him in the Diogenes and at Mycroft's office more than once"

"And he's dead. Maybe he was on a mission"

"Could be but if that was true, my brother would be banging our door by now" Sherlock snorts and lies back on his chair. A sudden sound from down stairs startles them both.

"Congratulations on your divination skills" they both turn to the door. A few seconds later, Mycroft Holmes is standing at the door, umbrella in hand, and quite crossed.

"Good morning, Mycroft"

"Sherlock" the government worker is trying hard to keep his façade.

"Mornin'"

"John"

"Did you smell Mss. Hudson's cookies from Pall Mall or what? You have no respect for our door this evening"

"You are the one who has no respect, Sherlock. You have no right to accept this case"

"Maberley's, I guess. I can't say no to a grieving mother" he shrugs. "And since you can't take care of your own employees nor partners, I have decided to do something 'bout it"

"This is a matter of national importance. You can't just barge in!"

"Watch me" Sherlock glares in defiance.

"You are still under process for the murder of Magnussen. Any false move and you will end up in…"

"It's not my fault if a stupid paper takes so long to be read"

"You are officially out of this investigation, Sherlock. I won't let you have it"

"And what will you do? Lock me in my room?"

"It's tempting but, I have already spoken with Mss. Maberley. You are out of the game"

"… John. Cancel your appointments, we have a certain government office to burn"

"Trying to sound menacing, brother mine?"

"I once almost broke your arm. Perhaps it's a great time to finish the job" Sherlock stands up and faces Mycroft.

"I dare you"

"Boys, please" John tries to separate them.

"You can't just take away my clients"

"I can and I will as long I consider they are not your business"

"You have no right"

"I can incapacitate you, Sherlock. Never doubt me"

"Girls! You are both pretty. Now, stop it" the doctor finally is able to mediate.

"I'll make sure that you stay out of this, little brother. Even if it means that I have to sedate you and put you in Buckingham's basement" Mycroft walks away leaving them alone.

"For once, he really means that, Sherlock" John sighs.

"Like I care. He isn't going to get things his way"

"Why is he so angry anyway?"

"He wasn't angry. He was… 'worried', more like. Something of this case is personal to him and that makes it more interesting. I'm not walking away from this one"

"You heard him. Mycroft is capable of anything this time" another loud sound catches their attention but it's not from the door. It comes from the window.

* * *

Based on 'The Three Gables".

A few details changed to make it interesting.

Dixie's quotes come from the book itself.

Mycroft's really going to meddle in this one, lads.

Stay tuned.


	2. 2 The Makeshift

Author's note: All of those who have read my fic "The Crystal Method" have encountered this bird before. If not, don't worry, he introduces himself just fine. The mystery gets a new turn.

And thank you readers and I hope I can keep it up to you, carbonone!

* * *

 **2\. The Makeshift**

" _I heard them calling in the distance  
So I packed my things and ran  
Far away from all the trouble  
I had caused with my two hands_"

Of Monsters and Men

Sherlock hushes John as he tiptoes to the window. The loud sound they have heard is now a strange tap on the glass. The detective stays still for a few seconds until he moves the curtain away. Much to their surprise, their visitor is not human but has a tongue of his own. A greenish brown parrot from Australia, a kea, that seems to talk in a strange mixture of British and Sydney accent and that flaps into the room before perching himself on John's chair.

"Evenin'" says the bird with a small bow.

"Evening"

"Mr. Holmes in the house?" asks the parrot flapping his wings.

"That would be me. You are?"

"Rrrroooack. Mr. Langdale Pike here to see you, chaps" the kea seems happy. "He's waiting for you. Dinner. Talk case"

"Sounds good to me" Sherlock has to admit nobody has ever given him a case this way. It's very practical to keep people from snooping.

"Case? Why doesn't he come here?" John blinks.

"Dinner for three" the bird seems to ignore the comment.

"Why not here?" repeats the doctor.

"No interest, no case" the kea flaps towards the window.

"Wait, wait! Wait!" the detective grabs the bird and puts him on his chair. "We ARE interested. Dinner then"

"Dinner. The Three Gablets. In one hour" says the parrot.

"Splendid. Tell, uh, Mr. Pike that we will be there"

"All right. (Whistle) Don't be late" the bird flies to the street and disappears down the street.

"What just happened?" John is clueless. "What was a parrot doing in our living room?"

"Offer us a case" Sherlock goes to his room to get dressed.

"And you just said yes? Just like that?" grumbles the doctor. "We don't know who this Pike person is and…"

"John, we know who he is. Stop playing baby"

"We do?"

"Writes on the yellow press quite often and is considered by many ' _the benevolent counterpart of Magnussen_ '. Scandals and secrets are safe in his hands. He knows almost anything there is to know about the high classes and the rich people. If he has asked for our presence, it could be something related to Maberley or something big. Pike used to do services for the MI5, so he probably knows my brother"

"Why Maberley?"

"It is one of the oldest families in London, very prestigious. Miss Maberley was once the favourite girl of the Royal Crown. Pike surely has heard about her son" he comes out and grabs his Belstaff coat.

"Sherlock, Mycroft will…"

"It doesn't have to be directly that case, John. We are just going to see what Pike wants"

"Ough, all right" the doctor texts his wife and they head for the place. The Three Gablets is a small club near Saint James Park where gentlemen can spend their afternoons in peace and quiet watching the visitors walk around the gardens. It doesn't take the two sleuths to notice the kea perched on its post. Next to him, a man dressed in fine clothes is taking a good look at the last visitors at the park.

"If there is any place on Earth where you can observe humans in their natural place, is this. Good evening, gentlemen" the man motions them to sit. He has a well-trimmed moustache and looks like a Victorian character, but the use of the cell-phone and laptop place him back in the present day. "I hope you will forgive my little feathered friend but, I can't risk giving myself away in front of your dear brother, Mr. Holmes. He keeps telling me that I should be writing reports for Mss. Smallwood but there's no fun in that"

"We guess that much. You heard 'bout…"

"Your deal with the CAM business? Course. And I won't lie to you, Mr. Holmes. The world is a lot better without jackals like him. Mycroft can say whatever he wants, I never liked that character" he orders dinner. "But let's not deal in the past, gents. We need to see the present"

"The present!" says the parrot.

"Exactly, my dear" the reporter smiles.

"You called us in for the Maberley case?" asks John.

"I'd love to, doctor. Really, I do. But I know from me precious Langdale that Mycroft forbid you to look into it, so I have something better in mind but not so afar from Mss. Maberley's request" he takes out an envelope. "I know your tastes, Mr. Holmes, and I promise this one will quench your thirst"

"Enlighten us" Sherlock lies back.

"The latest sensation these days is the wedding between Mr. Lomond, the owner of Lomond industries, and a certain Mss. Klein"

"That's yellow press" grumbles John.

"Then wait for what comes next. Mss Klein is no regular lady. She was once betrothed to Mr. Maberley but their marriage was called off because of some missing documents. The story seems childish but, truth be told, this all happened just a few days before our young boy was beaten to dust. Where are those documents? That's the question we are all asking and we are talking about an MI5 agent and Mr. Lomond is no young hanger, I assure you. He might even have a role in this story"

"In other words, you want us to find those documents and investigate how they disappeared" Sherlock's smile is widening.

"Exactly. Is probably a pen drive or something similar but you must remember that many would be looking for them. This is a matter of great importance. Once you found them, I would send them right away to Mss Smallwood and we would know if Mss Klein had anything to do with all this"

"A missing document, a femme fatale, a spy game. Mr. Pike, you are spoiling us" the young sleuth is really enjoying himself.

"Uh, time out! What if that is the reason why Mycroft kicked us out of this investigation?" John intervenes.

"Don't be a Grinch, John" Sherlock snorts.

"Just saying"

"Don't worry, doctor. Mr. Holmes Senior didn't send you to the kennels because of those documents" smiles the reporter.

"Then, why?"

"Because he knows Mss Klein from before and because there are rumors of her possible association with mobsters" that sentence does the trick and soon both detectives are back in their beds wondering what could that possibly mean as a cell phone is heard.

….

"He's back in the flat, sir"

"I know. Sherlock isn't the yes-sir type and that is going to lead him straight into the lion's den"

"Why would he be so interested in this case?"

"I dunno but we will soon find out. If he wasn't such a…" the door opens.

"I came as soon as I received your message"

"Excellent. I will need extra care in this one and, of course, your help will be the key. I don't want Sherlock snooping into deep. This case must never make it to the public. Am I clear on that, Watson?"

"You can count on me, Mr. Holmes"

* * *

Getting good, lads!

Langdale is based on the Granada version.


	3. 3 Missing Trust

Author's note: Curious thing is destiny. We are facing the Brexit thingy and we all forget about the rest of the things around the world but, in the end, it's all in the media.

Thank you all for your reading and reviews!

* * *

 **3\. Missing Trust**

" _Lie awake in bed at night  
And think about your life  
Do you want to be different?  
Try to let go of the truth  
The battles of your youth  
'Cause this is just a game_"

30 Seconds to Mars

John receives the first text to begin the investigation after work and he's not surprised to find Sherlock standing at the doors of Bart's, Sherlock's second home. The good doctor knows that his friend is going to push every single barrier that his brother has put. This is nothing new but for some reason, this time it feels different, almost menacing. Why were the brothers engaged in such a competition?

God!

"You took your time"

"I'm a married man and an about-to-be-father but thanks" grumbles John and the sleuth lets out a small giggle. "Ohm, why are we here?"

"We have two places to go today. This is the first one"

"Molly. But I thought…"

"Am not going to ask her to see the body. I'm not that stupid. Mycroft will know and we don't want any troubles, at least for the moment"

"Right" those words in the world of Sherlock Holmes always mean 'maybe in a few hours, we will be in trouble'. They walk into the building and head for the morgue where Sherlock notices that Lestrade has just been there. He always smells of coffee and always forgets to close both doors. His brother is obviously using all his strings to keep him controlled. The fool! Well, too bad for him.

"Evening, Molly" the sleuth startles the poor girl.

"God! Did you really have to do that?"

"As a matter of fact, no. But it was nice to see your reaction. Gretel was here, I presume"

"It's Greg and yes. He told me that the Bosses ordered him to you out of the case of the spy but had actually bet with Sally on how long it would for take you to get involved" she heads for the corpse.

"Ha-ah" Sherlock stops her right there. "Not this time. I don't need to see the body"

"For real?" both doctors are staring at him.

"There's always a first time. And perhaps, I'll take part in that bet" the young man smiles.

"If you say so. Why did you come then?" Molly Hooper leans on the surgery table.

"I've got three questions for you. You answer and we're done"

"Just like that?" John blinks.

"It's all I need. You ready?"

"Bring it on" the woman shrugs.

"First. We know the victim died because of a pneumonia caused by a fight"

"That's right. Someone ripped his spleen" nods Molly.

"Question is when exactly did that happened?"

"About two weeks or so before. According to Greg he had a brawl between Lambeth and Southward"

"Good. Any belongings at all?"

"Cell phone, wallet, few pounds. Nothing much really. He died at home. But I did found this in his pockets" she shows them a card where it reads 'The Three Gadders' and an email address. It also had the pictures of a toad, a slug and a snake. "Weird"

"Very" agrees John.

"Final question, Molly. Was he dressed casually or formal?"

"Now that you mentioned, he was ready for work. Tie, jacket, shoes"

"My thoughts exactly. Thank you, dear" Sherlock heads out with a grin in his face.

"What is he up to?" Hooper whispers.

"No idea" John follows him. "Thanks anyway" they walk out and cross several streets. "Uh, Sherlock. What just happened? Where are we going?"

"To make sure of something in our second place to visit"

"Why is it important if he was wearing sports or not?"

"He was a spy, John. If Maberley was well-dressed, he was probably going to see his bosses"

"Ouh" that makes sense. "It also means he wasn't carrying the pen drive when he died or Molly would have found it"

"So it is somewhere else"

"Obviously" when John realizes they are heading for the Diogenes Club, he swallows hard. "Uh, Sherlock. I thought we were going to avoid seeing your brother"

"And that is why we are not using this entrance" once at the building, the sleuth walks around the corner to a door in the back. "But this one" once there, he uses a small card to force it open and they walk inside the building towards the underground floor.

"Mycroft's going to kill us"

"Pffft. Love to see him try" Sherlock knows exactly where to go. They reach a room filled with computers and they turn one on. After a few tries of going over the password, the detective remembers the small card. "Let's see. The Three Gadders and the user is… Voila!" they are in.

"You just…"

"Piece of cake" he searches through the files and sees nothing missing until a thought crosses his mind. Sherlock enters the three animals and they find a document of a group of three spies of ten years ago. "Now this is interesting" a hiss is then heard and John stares in horror as the door is bolted from the outside and gas begins to flow in.

"Sherlock!"

"Just a little bit more" he's about to do it when he is suddenly kicked out of the computer. "Dang it!" They try to avoid the smoke but after a few minutes, they are both unconscious on the floor. Sherlock looks at John, trying to make sure that he's all right, when he hears the distorted sound of a pair of footsteps. The sleuth looks up and sees a pair of familiar eyes staring at him.

"Unwise, brother mine" Mycroft's voice follows him into the dark of his mind.

* * *

A toad, a slug and a snake. Remember them well, lads.

Next Stop: Ransom for Our Kind


	4. 4 Ransom for Our Kind

Author's note: Thank you all for your kind reviews and yes, Mycroft wasn't kidding. He never is, if you think it through. We move on and for the first character proposals, Langdale would be Stephen Fry and Mss Klein would be Michelle Fairley (she's two years younger than Mark Gatiss and that would suit this bad girl). Getting inspiration from Parade's End.

Update of the chapter so it doesn't look too lame!

Let's go!

* * *

 **4\. Ransom for Our Kind**

" _A fabrication of a grand scheme_

 _Where I am the scary monster_

 _I eat the city and as I leave the scene_

 _In my spaceship I am laughing_

 _In your remembrance of your bad dream_

 _There's no one but you standing_ "

Tracy Chapman

 _It was a rainy day. One of the many that would follow after that one and that got darker as the years went by. The old cedar stood side by side the house like the last remnant of a glorious past, with its branches filled with trinkets, lucky charms and other objects. It was the last resting place of brave Redbeard and the old well beside it was the only object in the world that, along with the tree, proved that two boys once played there and had fun throwing coins inside and counting how long the fall was._

 _The East Wind was howling as little William ran out of the house, coin in his hand, and stared at the tree as if he could still see the Irish Setter waging his tail and waiting for his order. The rain had drenched the boy in seconds but he didn't mind. He was far too upset to notice. He walked towards the well and stared at the dark bottom._

" _William!" a young man in his twenties ran in his direction. The boy ignored him. "William! Why won't you answer? Mother is sick worried about you!"_

" _I AM NOT WILLIAM!" barked the boy and turned again to the well. "And you! You are a bloody traitor!"_

" _It is my future! I can't just ignore it!"_

" _But you can ignore ME instead, can you? Your precious uni! I should have known that you didn't care!"_

" _Caring is not an advantage… Sherlock"_

"…" _they boy didn't answer and looked at his coin._

" _Look. I am sorry. I promise that when I get back, we will settle this"_

" _If you get back"_

" _I will. Am not leaving you alone to start a war all by yourself" joked the older brother and reached his brother's side. The younger remained silent and threw the coin inside the well. One… Two… Three… Four… "The world is far too dark for you, Sherlock" Five… Six… Seven… Eight…"I will always be there for you" the long arms embrace the curly hairs and they both stood under the pouring rain, still waiting for a wish to make it to the water._

Mycroft Holmes did come back but part of that promise was never fulfilled. Maybe that is why as he waits for Lady Smallwood and stares at Sherlock who has been put on a chair with his hands bound in his back. The young man is still unconscious and John will come asking for him in a few minutes. The government officer reaches for Sherlock's face and moans softly as he notices that someone has cut short all the curls, the same ones he loved to ruffle when the boys were young. Mycroft sighs.

The agent who has interrogated Sherlock has displayed all his might. The sleuth is drenched to the bone and his face, back and torso are haggard. The most brilliant detective has been declared an enemy for stealing documents of an important investigation and that puts Mycroft in a dire situation. He must decide how to preserve the Holmes good reputation and his job beside the Queen.

"Mycroft" the ginger man is soon joined by Lord Cantlemere, one of the heads of the government and close working partner.

"Horatio"

"You know this endangers our agreement"

"I know but, I'm sure my brother was here for a good reason"

"Colonel James Damery is on his way here with Lord Bellinger. The first one will speak in behalf of Mrs. Maberley but I can´t say the same about the second" the older man snorts. "He will ask for a kennel for Sherlock"

"I know"

"You must take over this case, Mycroft, or I won't be able to keep you both safe in these dire times. The Brexit vote is at hand and sides are being chosen"

"I'll see to this, Horatio" they both hear someone coming in. The large and masterful aristocrat who always talk in behalf of the powerful and the Cancerberus of the British government together in the same room with Lord Cantlemere and both Holmes brothers.

"Ah! Myc dear! So good to see you" the colonel shook his kid skinned-gloved hands with the older brother. "I admit I was hoping to be introduced to your junior. Another time perhaps"

"James. Milord"

"Mr. Holmes. You know what this government wants, do you?" the Minister huffs and leans on his cane.

"Yes, lord. But it's my brother we are talking about"

"Howard, for Queen's sake! You have already skinned the lad! What else? We need him to recover those papers or else the EF Clan will get away" chimes Damery.

"Or maybe we don't" Lady Smallwood closes the door. "We already have Mycroft to close this matter"

"He has not been in the MI5 for ten years!" the colonel remarks.

"Still…" they start to argue.

"You tortured a British citizen for a hard drive!"

"Who has stolen top secret documents!"

"Gentlemen, please" Lord Horace puts some peace. "I speak here for Her Majesty and she has requested that both brothers shall see into this matter"

"The voting is upon us, Horace. We don't know what plans that mob has" the woman stands tall.

"Whatever their plans are, Mrs. Maberley did ask for help to Mr. Holmes and clearly, the boy had been acquaintance by someone else after his brother put him away. The young man will not tell us who it is but, perhaps" they all turn to Mycroft. "It is your best way out of this one, Myc"

"It won't be easy" the ginger-haired sighs.

"You must. Or your brother has a very dark present ahead and so do you"

"…" they go quiet and the door bangs open. Someone is standing in the threshold and the elder Holmes stands up. "John"

"…" the doctor stares at his friend and then gazes at the older brother. No words. The brunette walks straight to the taller man and gives him a hard punch in the face. The politicians hold their breath. "You ask me to protect him. Fine! Then I will, starting from keeping him away from the likes of you"

"Doctor Watson" Lady Smallwood cries.

"…" Mycroft flinches, spits some blood and talks despite the pain. "It's all right, it's all right. I deserved that"

"You deserve worse! You weren't there for him when he was shot or to keep him safe from Magnussen. He is your brother, for God's sake! Your little brother!"

"I know" the tall man stands up again and turns to Sherlock. He remembers the stormy day by the well. "I wish things were different" Mycroft leans on his brother's forehead. He opens the knots and the young man fells into his arms. Sherlock feels so fragile, as he is about to fall apart. Another pair of arms helps. John's staring at the politician and the people around them are silent. "Call Mary"

"Ok"

"We're going home… William"

* * *

Hope you liked the changes.

Lord Horatio Cantlemere appears in "The Mazarin Stone", Sir James Damery in "The Illustrious Client" and Lord Bellinger in "The Second Stain".

See you real soon!


	5. 5 La Noche Triste

Author's note: So happy to hear that the changes in the previous episode worked so well. We move on and we get to see a real face to face between Mycroft and Mary. Always wondered how they really feel about each other. Let's get to it!

* * *

 **5\. La Noche Triste**

" _Feels like the weight of the world,  
Like God in heaven gave me a turn.  
Don't cling to me, I swear I can't fix you.  
Still in the dark, can you fix me?_"

 _Evanescence_

Mary arrives in less than ten minutes and carefully puts Sherlock in the back seat with his older brother, who gives the woman an address. Mycroft softly puts the sleuth's head on his knees and minds not the conversation between the Watsons until the car stops in front of an iron gate. John holds his breath. He has never been to the Holmes 'state. The politician ignores him and instructs the pair to park at the door and carry the still unconscious young man to a particular room. The nurse, despite her advance pregnancy, spends the first hour alongside her husband, cleaning and nursing Sherlock's wounds while Mycroft waits outside. Once they are satisfied and she has repaired the horrible hair cut, Mary joins the ginger-haired and John does the night watch.

Once alone, John takes a good around. The room does not have much furniture but many of the elements in it talk about a time long past, a happy time, like a little kid's room. As if Mycroft wants somehow to have a happy thought forever preserved. An old microscope, a worn pirate hat and a few books that once belonged to Sherlock are rare treasures along with a dog collar that carries a tag. John takes a look at the books. One of them is 'The Hobbit'. His friend did once mention slightly that his older brother used to read it aloud for him. A chemistry tome, a German course, hu? 'The Jungle Book'? And is quite worn out and someone has underlined several quotes. One of them is " _My heart is heavy with the things I do not understand_ ". John smiles. Maybe, just maybe, the always impatient and lonely Sherlock found similarities with the boy of the jungle.

Smiling, the doctor sits near his friend and brings the Jungle Book along. He begins with one of the sentences picked up by Sherlock himself.

" _Better he should be bruised from head to foot by me who love him than that he should come to harm through ignorance_ " John reads.

Meanwhile, Mary sits. She is exhausted but her attention is soon focused on Mycroft, who seems to be unable (for the first time in history) to keep his façade. He must be at the end of his rope. The man's eyes are on a picture on the wall where Mary can see a Spanish conquistador crying under the branches of an old cypress. She gets up slowly and takes a good look at it. Why would Mycroft…?

"This is getting far too dangerous" says an elder voice. Lord Horace is here. "If we don't get this case close, even the Queen will let go of your protection"

"I know" the gingered-man winces and feels his ribs.

"You should have told your brother"

"I will but, it won't easy"

"Nothing is easy, Mycroft Holmes. And I know you are not the sentimental kind but you do care for him. I knew it from the day you asked me access to security in order to keep him under watch" Horace leans on his walking stick. "We are too close to the abyss. This would be a good moment to reconsider certain things"

"..." the younger man fixes his eyes on the picture of the conquistador.

"Keep me informed. I'll try keeping Bellinger busy"

"Thank you, Horace. Good night"

"Good night, lad. And let the good doctor take a look at you. I wouldn't want to visit you in bed" the elder man leaves. Mary watched Lord Cantlemere take his leave and walks into the corridor to get a better view of the frame.

"It represents 'La Noche Triste'" says the politician.

"Sorry. The what?"

"Night of Sorrows" translates the man. "When Hernan Cortes lost to the Aztecs in one of his first battles, he was kicked out of Tenochtitlan Many lives were lost and legend tells that in his deep sorrow, Cortes cried under the branches of an ahuehuete or Montezuma bald cypress for his men" Mycroft sighs before resuming. "I was given that beautiful picture by the Spanish Ambassador as a reminder that even the powerful weep. I didn't believe him at first but every once in a while I stare at it and understand what Cortes felt. Tonight for example, I almost lost Sherlock and my family's good name because I couldn't keep my brother away from this case. Maberley's death gets into government secrets and there's nothing more fragile than that" he looks down in defeat.

"…" Mary has never seen Mycroft so down. How did he get so deep? "This is way too big, even for you"

"Lord Bellinger wants my brother's head, Lady Smallwood owes Sherlock but knows that the crime for stealing secrets is very high, Horatio's shield is weakening and I'm out of resources! We are battling an army, Mss. Watson, and we're out of ammo and fighting each other!"

"What army?"

"One of the oldest you can find under the Jack flag. A family clan that has ruled all criminals from the five countries for five centuries and has gone undetected through all these years. Jim Moriarty was aware of their existence and tried standing against them. When he failed, that mob washed his signs from London. That is why for more than three years, we have heard nothing about Moriarty's network" Mycroft carefully touches his ribs and winces. "Roger Stockdale is just one of the many allies that this mob has. Do you remember a small yet great robbery, not long ago, in the house of Lord Ferguson?"

"Yes, I do. Quite a scandal it was"

"Roger was behind the curtain but the theft was performed by two thugs named Smiley and Todd 'Panduro'. They got away clean and we never figured out their act until it was too late" the older Holmes sighs. "It should have been a case for the police but truth be told, the F Clan is the MI6's business and we never get to see them coming" he looks away. "I have hardly slept since Maberley died and now… this"

"Mycroft…" Mary swallows.

"My brother used to adore me when he was really small. When he was still in my mother's womb, I was the first one to hear his kicks. Mother said that Sherlock had picked me over our parents. I was one of his first words. We played under the old cedar in our courtyard, do deductions and compete to be the smartest of the pair. And then, everything changed. I was suddenly the monster that Sherlock feared. The feud stopped being just a game. When I left home to work for the MI6, I left a scared boy to fend for himself and when I got back, he was hip-deep in drugs. John has put him in the right track but, I have almost lost him so many times this last years… Two because of you" Mycroft's eyes go dark.

"I shot him to save him and you know why he did what he did with Magnussen. He was saving me and his best friend from who knows what horrors. Sherlock respects me and if he wants me to care of John, I will. He's a good man" Mary stands her ground but does not miss the hand of the man nursing his chest.

"You saw what happened on that plane"

"Yes, he overdosed"

"He almost killed himself. I won't let it happen again nor what happened with the blackmail case"

"Your brother is changing his ways. He's no longer a little boy, you know?" the woman knows that tone. Is the one of an older brother ready to keep the younger grounded for life.

"He is MY brother"

"Yes but, he has to learn to fend himself. Learn from his mistakes"

"Mistakes that have cost dear" Mycroft is definitively loosing it. "I know who you are and what have you done. You have no right to lecture me"

"Perhaps but, nor do you… You have just said that Cortes wept for the loss of his men, because of the massacre. This doesn't have to go that way. I can tell that this case is seriously getting under your skin, Mycroft, but… You asked for my help so, let me help"

"I asked for your help because Sherlock does trust you but perhaps, it was a bad idea. Good night" the gingered-haired man gets up and feels his legs sway. His body can't take the pain in his chest and so, Mycroft slumps back in the chair. "God"

"You all right?" Mary gets up.

"…" he does not answer but keeps nursing his ribs. She softly bits her lip and begins opening the waistcoat and shirt, ignoring the man's weak attempts to keep her away. Mary finally is able to get a closer look and covers his mouth in horror. The man's chest is black-and-blue. Someone has beaten him to a pulp. Unable to cope with the pain and embarrassment, Mycroft passes away.

"JOHN!" Mary screams and her husband comes running.

"Good Lord! What has happened?" the doctor puts the man in a more comfortable position.

"I don't know. God"

"He's breathing. A bit labored but breathing. These marks are about three days old which means… Bloody Hell!"

"What?"

"When he came that day to tell Sherlock that he was out of the Maberley case, Mycroft had just went through a monstrous beating. He was in pain!"

"So, he was…"

"Warning his little brother or at least trying. If they weren't both so stubborn, we would have known that those guys mean business! Let's take him to his room, I will see to his ribs" they half drag the man to the master's chamber. John swallows hard. This case is not like the others. Not only Sherlock is at stake but both Holmes boys and who knows what else. Outside the state, a golden eye is fixed on the rooms with light and slight smirk goes before a loud and cruel laughter.

* * *

A crisis opens for the Holmes.

How will the case go on?


End file.
